


Aftermath

by magicconchshel



Series: Fall of Praxus [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Injury Recovery, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27867366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicconchshel/pseuds/magicconchshel
Summary: Smokescreen, Prowl, and Bluestreak are left to deal with the aftermath of what happened in Praxus.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Series: Fall of Praxus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040677
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea how i managed to type this up in a day, but here u go, working on another fic at the same time and I have no idea where I am finding the time

“C’mon you don’t need anything else,  _ let’s go _ !” Smokescreen shouted at the door of his brother’s quarters. 

Prowl, kneeling beside his berth and pulling things out from underneath, looked over his shoulder and yelled back, “I’m coming!”

He rose to his pedes and lugged his bag with him. Smokescreen slammed his door shut and they fell into a quick pace as they hurried side by side down the hall. 

“What took you so long?” Smokescreen asked. 

“I had to grab Bluestreak’s documentation,” Prowl said. “Something  _ you  _ would have forgotten.”

“Yeah, yeah, come one. We can’t have the transporter leaving without us.”

“The transporter is for us, it won’t leave unless we’re on it.”

* * *

A full decacycle after that, the two of them returned to Iacon with a new companion in their arms. Smokescreen carried Bluestreak off the transporter. He had welds and wires covering the outside of his frame. A large battery hooked up to his chassis rested in his lap. Just behind him, Prowl followed with both of their bags in tow. 

Ratchet was waiting at the end of the catwalk with a few other medics. Once they reached him, he looked over Bluestreak’s frame and motioned to the gurney.

“Set him down there. We’ll take him to the med bay and run a few scans and go from there,” he said. 

They followed Ratchet and his team into the med bay and stayed in the waiting area until they were called back in. It was well into the lunar cycle by then. Prowl had already ran back to their respective quarters and dropped off their luggage. 

When Ratchet came to get them, he took them deep into the med bay and dispensed them into a private room where Bluestreak lied. There were chairs and a small room with a shower in the corner. Neither of them had ever been in one of these rooms. It was reserved for patients who were expected to have a prolonged stay in the med bay. 

Bluestreak’s tiny frame was propped up by pillows and he was hooked up to even more machines than before. He looked only scarcely better than he did in Tyger Pax where he received his first round of treatment. 

Prowl and Smokescreen each took a seat on opposite sides of Bluestreak’s medical berth. Reconstructing Bluestreak’s frame would be a tiresome process, but no one would be giving more effort than Bluestreak himself. 

Now, finally in a lull for the first time in cycles, Smokescreen spoke up, “Where do we go from here?”

“Ratchet gave me a rough timeline of Bluestreak’s recovery. It’s lengthy, but we’ll be able to keep him with us throughout it. After that, it’s still up in the air.” Prowl said. “I’ve been drafting an adoption request. We’ll be able to get custody of him just fine, but I don’t know if we’ll be approved to keep him on base with us. Before I send it in, I need to know what our living arrangements would look like if we were to keep him.”

“I was thinking about that too. Legally, I assume we’ll have fifty-fifty custody. But beyond that, I’ll probably be taking care of him most of the time, if that’s alright with you. You’ll need the extra time to get work done.”

Smokescreen had a fair point. Prowl had been rapidly climbing the command ladder. It was crucial that he acquire a position of importance to the Autobots so that he may ensure their safety later on in the war. 

“That will be fine,” Prowl said. “I’ll finish working on the proposal and I’ll have it submitted ASAP.”

* * *

During his time in Tyger Pax, Prowl had spent every spare klik he had into redirecting his workload to mecha below him who he deemed capable. Prowl had been granted a sizable amount of time off, but still felt it was necessary to ensure his work was placed in competent servos. 

Despite being off duty, Prowl still requested to receive regular reports updating him on the status of his department. Beside him, Bluestreak was recharging in his berth, kept in a light stasis. Smokescreen was on his other side, hunched over in his chair, recharging. 

Prowl pulled his attention back to the datapad in his servo. He continued to read. 

There was a shift next to him. He did not pick it up. There was more shifting and Prowl eventually came to notice this, but by the time he did, it was too late. 

Bluestreak shot up in bed, covering his face and sobbing. Smokescreen jolted from recharge and jumped to his pedes. As best he could, he pulled Bluestreak close to his frame and sat on the berth with him. There were wires running out of his frame that Smokescreen had to maneuver with, but once he did, Bluestreak was safely in his lap. 

Prowl was still frozen in his seat, datapad in servo. Bluestreak clung onto Smokescreen’s armor and cried into his chassis. Prowl was brought back to his senses when the door swung open and First Aid rushed inside. He rose to his pedes as First Aid checked over Bluestreak’s monitors. 

First Aid breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s nothing, just a bad dream.”

Bluestreak’s crying had quieted a little. Smokescreen draped a blanket over him while First Aid continued to work at the monitors. 

“His vitals had a sudden spike so I thought something was wrong,” he said. “Doesn’t look like it. I think he just had a nightmare and panicked. See if you can get him back into recharge. If not, I can administer a sedative.”

First Aid left and Prowl finally released the vent he was holding. Smokescreen laid back on the berth and pulled the blanket over Bluestreak’s helm. Prowl turned off the light at Smokescreen’s request. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Prowl asked. 

“No,” Smokescreen said. 

The nightmares did not end there. Bluestreak went back into recharge that cycle, but the terrors became more frequent. Ratchet had offered to get him an extra sedative in the night cycle, but Smokescreen wanted to find an alternate solution before relying on sedatives. 

Smokescreen had assured Prowl on multiple occasions that Bluestreak’s reaction to his trauma was normal. As long as it didn’t continue on for too long, he was not in any danger. 

Due to the lack of recharge in the lunar cycle, Bluestreak had started recharging during the solar cycle as well. In the time he was online, however, he had become much more mobile. 

Bluestreak had regained the ability to sit up on his own. While he was still unable to walk, he had learned how to move around his medical berth and was becoming bored with his monotone surroundings. 

* * *

Jazz and Prowl walked side by side through Iacon’s commercial district, joined at the elbow. Even though it was Prowl’s brother they were doing the shopping for, Jazz was the one leading Prowl around. 

Prowl was painfully unaware of the needs of a youngling. Jazz was also quite clueless, but was better at guessing what Bluestreak might want. 

They stopped inside a linen store and picked out a few soft blankets for him. They left the display of pillows alone, knowing Prowl already had enough stored away in his suite. 

“He’ll need toys, right?” Prowl asked as they walked down the street. 

“Toys? Yeah, definitely,” Jazz said. “What does he like?”

“I’m not sure,” 

Jazz pulled him into a toy store and they drifted from one shelf to the next. Several different toys were presented to Prowl, but he could not settle on any one thing. He couldn’t recall Bluestreak ever being attached to plushies and he doubted he would have the attention span to complete an entire puzzle. It wasn’t until they reached the back of the store that something caught his eye. 

There was a whole line of miniature vehicles. When pulled back, the wheels would wind and when released, the vehicle would lurch forward. Prowl was not certain Bluestreak would like them, but it was worth a shot. 

He and Jazz sifted through the different models and colors until collecting a handful of vehicles they felt he would like. 

* * *

As Bluestreak’s recovery progressed, Prowl returned to work and began finalizing his proposal. Smokescreen, however, stayed with him the majority of the time, hardly ever leaving the recovery room. 

Bluestreak had recently learned to move around his medical berth as movement in his limbs returned. He played with the vehicles Jazz and Prowl had bought for him, winding them up and letting them fly off his berth for medical staff to trip on. Not that they minded, the nurses often fawned over Bluestreak’s adorableness. 

It would be a while before Bluestreak would be able to transform. Ratchet was confident he would regain mobility, but warned that allowing him to use his t-cog too soon would cause damage and pain that could last him the rest of his life. 

Though with that news, Ratchet also informed them that Bluestreak would not need any more surgery as long as the rest of his recovery went according to plan. He would soon be able to move out of the med bay and in with his brother’s. 

* * *

Prowl was sitting up in his berth with a data pad when Jazz left the wash racks. Jazz settled beside him on the edge of the berth, Prowl still unmoving. 

“What’s that?” he asked. 

“Bluestreak’s updated medical file,” Prowl said. “He’ll be out soon.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I’m going over the schedule for the rest of his recovery.”

“You don’t seem too excited about that.”

“I am. I just don’t know what’s going to happen after he’s recovered. I don’t know if my proposal will be accepted. If we’re rejected, we’ll be forced to place him in a Youth Sector.”

“That’s not all bad. He’ll be around younglings his age.”

“I know, but I’d prefer he be raised around us. I don’t know what sort of environment or care a Youth Sector can provide him.”

“There aren’t any alternatives to a Youth Sector?”

Prowl thought about it. “There are. We could look into a foster home, but I’m not sure if there would be any available to tend to Bluestreak’s needs. He still gets night terrors and I doubt those will be going away any time soon.”

“It won’t come to that, I’m sure. You wrote a convincing proposal. I don’t see how they could deny you.” Jazz leaned forward and planted a kiss on his nose. “And if they do, you can rest easy knowing you tried your best.”

Prowl put a servo on Jazz’s neck and held him in place so he could look him in the optics. “It won’t come to that,” he said. “If we’re rejected, Smokescreen and I will be taking Bluestreak and leaving the Autobots.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“I felt I should let you know. Smokescreen and I have already discussed this,” Prowl said. “If we’re rejected, we will restate our desires once, sharing our plans of resigning, and if we are rejected, we will leave. Smokescreen and I have saved up enough credits to live on our own. The credits we got from the insurance agency after our belongings were destroyed in Praxus is more than enough to support us.”

Jazz pulled away from Prowl. 

“I’m not asking you to come with us, but you’re welcome if you want to.”

Jazz was silent for several kliks. “I don’t have many prospects other than what I’m doing right now.”

He was right. Before the war, Jazz had been an abandoned youngling on the streets of Polyhex and had signed up to be an Autobot the day he was of age. Prowl had once asked him why he chose to be an Autobot and Jazz said it was for the security being a soldier had to offer. 

“I know, which is why I respect your decision no matter what it is.”

They settled back into the berth and Jazz reached over to turn off his light. “I’ll think about it.”

* * *

Prowl walked beside Smokescreen towards his quarters. He carried Bluestreak in his arms, wrapped up in blankets with his toys in servo. The hallways were mostly clear, but they still moved fast to transport Bluestreak as safely as possible. 

Upon arrival, Smokescreen deposited Bluestreak on the floor and let him move around as he pleased. Across the room from Smokescreen’s berth was a smaller one for Bluestreak. At the end, there was a box for Bluestreak to store his things. 

“Once you start feeling better, we can go to the store and buy you some more things.” Smokescreen said. 

It went unmentioned that that might not be a possibility. 

As cycles passed, Smokescreen and Bluestreak spent most of their time in their quarters. Prowl had gone out into the shopping district once more to get Bluestreak some more toys, but other than that, he had found ways to occupy himself. 

He had spent a few nights with Prowl. His older brother had cleared space for him in the extra room next to his for Bluestreak to recharge in. He did not last the entire night before climbing into Prowl’s berth. 

They also found that Bluestreak did not like to be away from Smokescreen or Prowl for too long. Smokescreen would often have to walk Bluestreak all the way to Prowl’s office for a mid-cycle visit. Neither of them minded it, but Smokescreen could do without the stares from passing mecha whenever he went somewhere with Bluestreak. It didn’t matter where they were headed, Prowl’s office, their quarters, the med bay, there always seemed to be someone gawking at them. 

One cycle, when standing in the middle of Prowl’s office, Prowl said, “I haven’t gotten an answer back yet.”

“No? Is that good or bad?”

“Good, I think,” Prowl said. “I was told that they were pushing my request up to higher command. It means they’re taking it seriously.”

“Well,  _ good _ ,” Smokescreen said with more force than intended. “They better be. ”

* * *

Smokescreen opened the door as slowly and silently as he could manage. His spark was thrumming in his audios and he felt like he might fall into stasis at any time.

Upon seeing Prowl standing alone in the living area, he said, “You got it?”

He lifted his helm, “Yes.”

“Have you read it?”

“No, I waited for you.”

Smokescreen sat on the couch and waved at him, “Go ahead.”

Prowl onlined the datapad in his servo and cleared his vocalizer. 

“I would first like to begin this letter by sending my condolences to you and your family. There has been no greater loss in this war than what happened in Praxus. My colleagues and I have reviewed your request and agree that it is in everyone’s best interest for you and Smokescreen to maintain joint custody over Bluestreak until adulthood as long as conditions on base remain suitable to raise a youngling. We also agree that it would be in everyone’s best interest to transfer Smokescreen into a larger unit so he may properly care for Bluestreak. No promotion of rank is necessary if he chooses to accept. I wish you and your family well. Till all are one. Signed by Optimus Prime.”

When Prowl looked up, Smokescreen had wide optics and was staring at him. “Oh,” he vented and stood. “Should I-should I go get Bluestreak? Not that I told him anything-”

“No, he’s recharging,” Prowl said. 

“We’ve gotta tell  _ someone _ . We just got a personal message from the Prime”

“Let me go get Jazz,” Prowl said with the slightest hint of a laugh. “I need to tell him we’re not running away.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u liked it :))) also...i have a


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